


What full lips you have (they're sure to lure someone bad)

by sarcastic_fi



Series: the kind of eyes that drive wolves mad [2]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Dark, Don't Ask, Implied or Off-stage Rape/Non-con, M/M, My mind is a scary place to live
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-11
Updated: 2012-08-11
Packaged: 2017-11-11 23:01:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,825
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/483854
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sarcastic_fi/pseuds/sarcastic_fi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>2x11 coda (no spoilers for finale)</p><p>Stiles is rescued, but not from the big bad they all thought.</p><p>Implied rape (underage) and general disturbing concepts. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED.</p>
            </blockquote>





	What full lips you have (they're sure to lure someone bad)

Everyone wants to know what happened. His dad is there with a worried expression that quickly morphs into frustration then anger as Stiles repeats his mantra of 'I don't remember'. Scott's mom, who has known him since he was six, can tell he is lying and bites her lip as she looks at the placement of his wounds and jumps to conclusions. Later, when the adults have left and there is only Scott present, he asks if it was Gerard even though Allison's grandfather had been no where near when he'd been found and had in fact been orchestrating a town take-over with Jackson at his side. Stiles doesn't bother lying, because he knows Scott will hear the truth in the thumpa-thumpa of his honest heart. Instead he looks away, pretending that there aren't any tears in his eyes and tells his best friend that he is tired, because that at least is the truth.

Stiles wakes in the middle of the night to find flashing red eyes peering at him from the shadowy corner and fear freezes his body until he realises that it's Derek. Of course it's Derek, he is still the alpha.

Derek growls and doesn't bother asking because he heard the whimpers of the boy's night terror and read the name on his lips. He knows, instantly, what happened and he can guess why. His claws scrape along the wooden arm of his chair and his teeth bite into his lip to stop the rage from escaping verbally. Stiles understands pretty quickly that Derek knows, but isn't sure if the alpha is angry that his uncle betrayed his trust (again) or because he hurt Stiles. Probably the first, because after all Derek had made it clear he didn't care much for humans generally, even ones who saved his life every so often.

“You should have told us he was back,” Stiles mutters, not looking at the werewolf because he knows his eyes are already moist and Derek's eye sight was supernaturally enhanced enough that he'd be able to see the tears before they fell down his cheeks.

“I know,” Derek says, accepting the blame, which surprises Stiles enough to look at the other man. All he sees, however, is the back of his trademark leather jacket as he sneaks stealthily out of the room. 

Stiles breaths in, and it's painful. He didn't expect Derek's response. Truthfully the bitterness in his voice hadn't been directed at the sourwolf, but at himself. He was angry that he hadn't been able to protect himself. It wasn't a human thing, after all Allison had managed to protect herself, so it must be a Stiles thing. It must be his fault.

Tears fall readily once that thought enters his mind. Stiles curls up in the foetal position, ignoring the pain that spikes in a place that he never thought he'd feel pain, and concentrates on memories of his mother and how she used to smell like lilacs and cake batter. 

In the morning his dad visits and Stiles knows immediately that he's been talking to Melissa McCall. He looks uncomfortable, which isn't an unusual expression for his father especially considering he'd been the one to give the sex talk to Stiles after his mom died, but it's the guilt and horror that make Stiles realise exactly what conclusions that the adults have drawn. He doesn't know how to tell them he let it happen, that it was the only way to protect everyone he loves. In the end he reflects that it's probably best they never know that.

His dad only stays for twenty minutes, during which Stiles can't bring himself to talk to him so he just stares and nods at what he thinks might be appropriate moments. He isn't sure but he thinks that his dad might have left because he was about to cry. Or maybe that was just wishful thinking? He didn't want to think that his dad just couldn't bare to be be in the same room as his only son.

Lydia's visit surprises him. It isn't that he hadn't dreamed of her visiting him, it was just that he'd accepted that as a teenage fantasy. The kind that would never come true.

She brings balloons and Stiles remembers the hours he spent waiting to be allowed to see her when she'd been recovering from the bite. He'd never gotten to give her those balloons, she'd gone missing in the woods first, but apparently her dad had told her about them. She also brings grapes, because hospital food sucks and grapes are healthy. 

There is an awkward pause in conversation after she finishes telling him all of this and Stiles thinks that this is normally when he'd start babbling some nonsense that would ultimately embarrass him. The words get stuck in this throat as he watches her green eyes dart nervously around the room. She hates hospitals, which isn't unusual, but he understands that her feelings come from genuine fear and memories that he can't ever relate to, not even after being victimised by the same person.

Finally she finds her resolve and faces him with self-disgust and shame in her eyes, but there is no shortage of relief as she explains her thankfulness that it hadn't been her. After everything she'd been through – the bite, the hallucinations, the mental torture and fear of insanity, he doesn't blame her. He can, of course, never look at her the same again, not even when a tear slips down her white cheek and she whispers 'sorry'. He gets it. He just can't forgive her.

Stiles' youthful love for her dies then, because he'd been prepared to love someone selfish, someone shallow and calculating who judged people by what car they drove or what college they could afford to attend, but he never signed on to love someone who was incapable of self-sacrifice. It's a harshness he hadn't known he'd possessed and he reflects that it was probably something that had developed after the fact, rather than an innate character flaw he'd been born with.

Melissa tells him he can go home three days later. He is, medically, fit to leave the hospital. His mental health, however, is apparently to be put in the hands of Miss Morell from now on. He's fine with that, she's a school guidance counsellor so he doubts her opinion will mean much in a few years. He won't have 'head case' tattooed all over his files to follow him forever more.

His dad doesn't come to pick him up, Scott does in his Jeep which had finally been released from police evidence. Scott assures him that his dad is working on who took Stiles, as if he is attempting to make sure Stiles knows his dad still loves him and it isn't personal that he couldn't take an hour off of work to take his son home from the hospital. It is, though. Avoidance; because that was how Stilinskis do it.

Scott drops him home, and Stiles stares at his empty house feeling a wave of self-pity and exhaustion echo through him. He is tired of everything, of being scared and of lying and most of all of living his pathetic normal life. Who cares about going to school, about getting detention from Mr Harris or learning about the difference between animal and plant cells? He could die any day. Be killed by a stray arrow from a hunter. Be bitten or clawed to death by one of Derek's out of control wolves. Get run over by a bus, contract a deadly disease and waste away, or accidentally overdose on his painkillers.

The last option is favourable, but Stiles wants to hedge his bets. He'd never do it, just in case heaven exists and God cares enough about suicide to hold it against a traumatised teenager. He wants to see his mom on the other side, and that's the reason he stays alive.

At least until one of the other thousands of ways to go gets him.

He unlocks his door, tells Scott he'll be fine and when Scott hears the lie he speaks the truth, that he doesn't want his friend there, and that at least convinces Scott to leave. Which is a good thing, because blood is impossible to get out of carpets and there was no way Scott would have won against Peter Hale, even with his superior strength. 

“What took you so long,” Peter asks, standing in Stiles' bedroom like he belongs there.

“People were worried,” Stiles replies shortly, keeping his distance even though he knows it's futile.

“Strange. They're worried now, after you've been found, when they should have been worried before,” Peter muses, his eyes shrewd.

Stiles doesn't bother to defend his loves ones, knowing that Peter would pick up on his inner doubt and use it against him. Instead he waits, knowing that it'll happen sooner or later.

Sooner, it seemed.

Peter approaches him, a wolf moving in for the kill, slow and languid sure that it's intended victim was efficiently hobbled and defenceless. “You still owe me, Stiles,” he tells him, his voice deceptively light but madness of a killer was in his eyes. “I haven't touched a hair on the head of any of your loved ones, and I saved you from being barbecued by that unimaginative sorry excuse for a hunter,” Peter reminds him.

Stiles gulps, trying to block out the memory of the heat growing closer with every passing second after Gerard realised that he didn't need to keep Stiles alive to prove his point. War had causalities, after all, and Stiles was an acceptable loss. After all he'd been conspiring with the enemy, which made him the enemy despite his species. 

Peter had made it look like Jackson killed Gerard, then he'd taken control of the lizard boy himself and covered his tracks well. Much better than a mentally disturbed sixteen year old boy or a vengeance driven hunter who'd forgotten he wasn't invincible.

“Lydia knows,” Stiles chokes out.

“She won't say anything,” he sounds so sure, and Stiles supposes that he speaks from experience after living in her mind for a month. 

“So does Derek,” he adds, not sure what he hopes to accomplish.

“My nephew has never been much of a threat to me. It took all of you to bring me down last time, and only because I became complacent in my superiority. I'll be careful not to underestimate them next time,” Peter said confidently.

Sharp pain hit him like lightning, bringing him to his knees instantly. Peter smiled and withdrew his claws from Stiles' shoulder and held them in front of Stiles' lips to lick clean. “Now, where were we?”

Stiles closed his eyes, no more tears left to shed, and extended his tongue to lap at his own blood on the werewolf's fingers and didn't stop until it hurt.

 

The End

**Author's Note:**

> PS. Sorry. i have no idea where this came from, except that Derek hasn't bothered to mention a certain someone's return even though he attacked several of the teens last time round. It's been bugging me
> 
> PPS. Title taken from the song Li'l Red Riding Hood (found here; http://www.robert-kruse.com/samudio/pages/lyric-lilred.html)


End file.
